NHS dedicated care

Mum’s receiving intensive/critical care in Kingston General following a heart attack on Thursday. There is a strangely relaxed atmosphere in the unit where patients are battling life threatening health problems.

My mother is now on a stronger antibiotic because the previous one was not working on the infection around her heart and lungs. She remains modestly courageous, wincing with the pain in her back and shifting her position to try and get confortable sitting up. She referred to the insertion of at least six needle lines as the “extensive torture” she had to endure, but remains talkative and fully alert although very tired.

It was great to see her wolf down scrambled egg yesterday evening. She likes decent coffee and when Liam checked with the nurse if that was alright, he was told she could have anything she wanted. Mum then interjected “whisky?”. The whisky request was repeated just before the end of visiting hours. My brother arriving from Heathrow had a litre of malt in his case. When we gently refused to pour her a small measure she admonished me “you wouldn’t refuse a dying woman a drop of whisky would you?” My answer was that if she stopped dying I’d get her a whisky.



2 thoughts on “NHS dedicated care

  1. I have been wondering how the Magnificent Lady has been doing. My mother went in on Friday for a quadruple bypass and a replacement valve. I have been doing the ICU visiting routine for the past week. A very surreal experience indeed!

    Send my love and good wishes to your Mum and give her the news of my mum (Irene), whom she met.

    How strange that we find ourselves with similar situations. My mum turned 80 on the 1st Jan 2016. She is very feisty but not quite as witty as your mum. Yesterday she said on top of her voice: That man over there is a Rastafarian. She then called the Sister over to confirm her views.

    My mum tells me he has long hair (which she thinks may be dreadlocks). Just for the record he is surrounded by 5 young women with flowing hair who massage his hands, arms and feet throughout visiting time while he feigns a coma. My mother says (on top of her voice): Look she is going into a trance.

    The Sister dutifully listens to my mum’s questions and says: We must be careful how we say this…hippy…they are hippies.

    My mother is satisfied with this explanation and looks at me knowingly with the ‘I told you so’ expression.

    My theory is that he is a Leader of a Cult and these are his young wives.

    Give the Magnificent Lady a Bells.

    • Hi Rene, I hope your mum pulls through. It’s great when your parents do the stage whispering. Mum is a master of that art with some classic lines such as “to think they have mothers!”. The whisky demands got quite heated yesterday as she looks for release from the pain and struggles with breathing. My brother and youngest son make the visiting easier and a good friend to my mother (who had smuggled in a tot of whisky on a previous hospital stay) lightened the mood in the ICU, which is an oddly calm environment. Mum tried to express herself with the pressure mask on – unintelligible and a huge effort. I gave her pen and paper. Her unusually curly writing spelt out that I am very ….calm …possibly …then an angry arrow drawn towards me…what it is supposed to be, God knows? No rastas or hippies on our ICU but a Sri Lankan gentleman in the visitors room engaged my son and I in conversation explaining (I’m telling you the repeated refrain) that Donald Trump is exactly what America needs. Liam was surprised that I jumped in with my usual enthusiasm for debate and offered what I thought were quite restrained counter arguments (people voted for Hitler etc.)
      I’m telling you…this shit aint easy. Let’s hope for positive outcomes.

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